


Kosmo duty!

by ragdollrory



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura - Freeform, Guests appearances, Keith is worried, Kosmo keeps disappearing, M/M, Pidge - Freeform, S8 does not exist, Sam Holt - Freeform, Shiro is best husband, Space husbands adventures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:20:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25677217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragdollrory/pseuds/ragdollrory
Summary: Keith's fear has been steadily growing with each passing disappearance from the wolf. It’s been nearly a full week since he last returned. Keith’s focus snaps back towards Shiro, and he can feel the worry rising in the widening purple of his eyes. “Do you think he has another family?”
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 112





	Kosmo duty!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bioplast_hero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioplast_hero/gifts).



> A story for Hiro, born from random chat convos, because he enables all of my craziness.
> 
> A massive thanks to my Beta this time around, [TeaForRogue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtForRogue/works)

“Shiro, have you seen Kosmo?” Keith asks from the kitchen, pulling Shiro from his frowning at a document on his PADD.

“Umm…” When Shiro turns, it's to find Keith’s bare legs peeking from under one of his own shirts, so he leans back on the chair, until it’s perfectly balanced on its back legs, to appreciate them further. And promptly loses the train of thought. Keith props a hand on his hip, the other holding a bowl of wolf food, and fixes Shiro with a chiding gaze.

“Kosmo,” Keith repeats, a small roll of his eyes following, the same as every time he uses the name he still claims is not the wolf’s  _ true _ name. “Have you seen him?”

It’s not the first time the wolf is not home at lunch time, of course. Or at any other time, really. Kosmo likes to pop in and out, and go explore God knows where. Shiro’s hardly ever concerned over the animal, given he’s proven time and time again that he’s more than capable to return on his own. Not to mention, he's smarter than any other animal Shiro’s met before, too. Shiro’s sure Kosmo does not speak solely because he doesn’t want to.

Still, every time he spends a little too long out, Keith worries. And because Keith worries, Shiro does too. He understands just how important the wolf is for his husband, and wouldn’t dare undermine Keith’s feelings, no matter how Shiro thinks Kosmo will be back any time now.

“No, not really.” Shiro spots the tiny drop of Keith’s shoulders and the clear effort he puts into not scowling. It softens Shiro's heart, and so he forgets what he was working on in favor of closing the distance between them. “He’ll be back soon, baby, I’m sure.” Shiro pries the food bowl from Keith’s fingers, setting it on the counter, and rests his hands on Keith’s hips. His thumbs work circles there, hoping it will ease the worry away.

Keith remains tense in Shiro’s hold for a moment longer before letting his head rest on Shiro’s neck, arms wrapping around his middle, and fingers pressing a little into his back. “I know, it’s just-”

“I understand.” Shiro whispers into Keith’s hair, sparing his husband from elaborating further.

It’s no secret that Keith’s number one fear is people disappearing on him -- losing his loved ones, yet  _ again _ . That the wolf can actually disappear, and they have not a single clue where he goes, or what he does, does not help Keith’s case at all. And if Shiro has to be completely honest, it is true that Kosmo has been consistently disappearing more and more lately, just under their noses. One moment the wolf was there, and the next he was not. Shiro wouldn’t voice it without real evidence either, but it seemed that the trips were a little longer each time too.

Ever since they touched ground after their last Coalition mission, Kosmo had made it a habit of going away almost every day. Shiro frowns into Keith’s hair, worry seeping into him like any other time Keith lets his guard down like this. 

“He’ll be back.” Shiro’s prosthetic cups Keith’s cheek, tilting his face up to catch his eyes. He offers a reassuring smile, and when Keith’s scowl wavers, Shiro leans in to kiss the rest of it away. “Just you wait. He gets hungry, and he’ll be right back.” Their foreheads pressed together, Shiro moves his human hand to the small of Keith’s back under the shirt, pushing them together. “He’s very much like you that way, coming with wide pleading eyes when he wants something.”

“Is that so?” Keith chuckles, hot breath trapped between them. His fingers dig a little further into Shiro’s back, walking him backwards until he hits the fridge. Keith keeps Shiro pressed there, a hand on the middle of his chest, and the most ridiculously coy gaze looking up at him from under black, thick lashes.

Shiro’s weak for his husband any day of the week, but kittenish Keith is his complete undoing. And that’s exactly why he has only himself to blame, when Keith leans closer, and his heart stutters all across his body. Keith’s free hand brushes past Shiro’s head though, to grab at the magnetic pen on the fridge’s door, and scribble something on the little notepad there. Then leaves.

“Come on, Takashi,” Keith pats Shiro’s chest one more time before taking off back to their bedroom. “There’s things to get done before we leave to pick your girl up for the next mission.”

To Shiro’s pride, he manages to keep the pathetic whimper inside until Keith’s well away, although the warm imprint of the hand on his chest does not leave until he manages to get his body in check a couple of breaths after.

He pushes himself from the fridge, fixes his clothes, and rips the shopping list from the magnetic block of papers, lest he forgets something like last time. It’s never a nice feeling when you’re galaxies away from home, and craving the one thing in the list you didn’t buy. And much as Atlas has a wide array of food and drinks, as the crew becomes larger and more varied in species, and they have to cater to everyone’s palate, human food- indulgences in particular- have to be cut short. 

Whatever extra they might want, they have to take themselves, and keep in their quarters. Provided it fits a list of conditions. He still remembers the time an Grulte took a live yeast proxy, and four rooms were taken over by the alien fungi before they realized what was happening. Shiro stares at the last item added in Keith’s jagged handwriting- red M&M’s- before pocketing and exiting their home towards the nearest shop.

Just as Shiro’s stepping out though, there’s a pop in the air behind him, and he turns right in time to catch Kosmo appearing in the middle of the living room, a couple of papers on the coffee table falling on the floor, and a mug Shiro left there shaking lightly by the burst of energy.

Keith surely feels it from the bedroom as well, because Shiro sees the door open and catches his husband’s eyes across their quaint home, above the blueish figure of a happy-looking space wolf. They share a smile, and Shiro’s out with the sounds of Kosmo barking for his food.

-

Keeping track of people inside a sentient spaceship shouldn’t be so hard, Shiro thinks, focusing on Atlas’ energy one more time to try and see if he finds the wolf. Nothing. He turns to Keith with a shake of his head, the younger man openly frowning, arms crossed at his chest in a defensive manner.

“ _ Where is he going? _ ” Keith’s voice rises, making a passing officer veer out of their way. His question is laced with anger, but Shiro can read between lines, and knows his husband is just afraid. His fear has been steadily growing with each passing disappearance from the wolf. It’s been nearly a full week since he last returned. Keith’s focus snaps back towards Shiro, and he can feel the worry rising in the widening purple of his eyes. “Do you think he has another family?”

“Oh, Keith,” Shiro reaches out, metal fingers circling Keith’s wrist. He's quick to lead them away to a more private spot before the shining of Keith’s eyes becomes tears and Shiro’s forced to swear his crew to secrecy.

“He  _ does not _ have another family.” Finally, inside a sealed conference room, Shiro’s arms crush Keith to his chest until all tension leaves his body. When he loosens his hold though, Keith doesn’t move away, and Shiro rests his weight on the table behind, focusing on soothing the man he loves. “Keith, Kosmo- well, he’s a teleporting wolf, and we know very little of him, but I doubt he’s cheating on you,  _ on us _ ,” Shiro amends, when Keith pokes a finger to his ribs, “with someone else.”

To be honest, Shiro’s not too sure of that statement. Not because he doesn’t think the wolf loves Keith, but because he’s positive that’s a thing that can happen with pets on Earth. Cats and dogs better treated, or fed elsewhere, might slowly change homes. In his mind, there’s nowhere else anyone could be, but at Keith’s side, with Keith’s love, but could the wolf think differently? It was not like they could ask him, much as Shiro’s husband insisted that the animal would  _ tell _ them his name one day.

“Maybe he’s bored?” Shiro tries, hands rubbing circles on Keith’s back. “Perhaps he  _ needs _ to teleport every so often, and that’s all there is to this. He did it all the time during the war, helping us, but now we’re more static.” Keith pushes himself away, hands resting on Shiro’s biceps, and regarding him with something between curiosity and skepticism. That’s enough for Shiro to elaborate on the one theory he has about the way the wolf has been behaving for the past six months.

“You know how it feels to feel rooted to a single place.” Shiro pinches Keith’s chin between his thumb and index, leaning to peck the tip of his nose. “That need to stretch your legs, go away and see what’s out there? Or just run drills and spar when you’ve got nothing but energy to burn? Maybe he needs that too.”

Shiro’s not sure he fully believes his words, but he smiles as if he does, thumb caressing Keith’s lower lip until the man gives in and sighs in defeat. It’ll be momentary, Shiro’s aware of that, but it will give him time to think of something else. A way to help his husband with his breaking heart.

-

“Shiro, what a wonderful surprise!” Allura’s smile illuminates her face, and Shiro would dare say the screen even. It immediately eases some of the worry on his chest, her voice hardly losing the musical cadence through the video call.

“Princess,” he smiles back at her, fondness tightening his tired eyes, and of course she notices at once, her features softening with concern.

“Is everything alright, Shiro? Keith, you? Atlas?” She probes, voice lowering, and Shiro wonders if he interrupted her with company, but Allura must catch him doubting, because her brow furrows into her no-nonsense look. “Admiral Shirogane,  _ don’t you dare _ . Tell me what’s bothering you, I will listen.”

Shiro’s lips part to answer, but the air that rushes up his throat, lungs straining against his ribs, stays put. His gaze drops to the threaded fingers on his lap, head shaking slowly. Of course Allura could threaten him like that, no matter how many galaxies away. It reminds Shiro of the countless conversations that started so similar to this, right after the end of the war, when he was still trying to gather the courage to ask Keith out. He can’t remember how many of these glares he received until he managed it. And yet, Shiro never grew immune to them.

“Shiro,” No matter how modern, the communication does not do justice to the way Allura makes his name sound, an encouragement for him to go on and an apology for being pushy. “If you need me to come over…”

“No!” Her kind offer makes Shiro look up to answer. He wouldn’t dare steal so much of her time like that. Not when they’re all working on turning the Coalition into something as big and important for everyone as the Interplanetary Federation would be, once fully regulated. “No, Allura, that’s not necessary. I, it’s just…” 

“I know we haven’t talked much of this before, and I can’t imagine Keith ever asked, what with the war going on, and everything after. But, do you perhaps know anything about his wolf?” Shiro turns, unconsciously, to check the sleeping shape of Keith on their bed to his left. 

It’s been two full weeks without news from Kosmo, and Shiro’s heart aches further with each morning Keith wakes up to find his companion still gone. He can only imagine how much pain his husband is feeling.

“Kosmo? Oh, I’m not really sure.” Allura rests her chin on a hand, lower lip pushed out in a cute pout she denies doing when thinking. Shiro’s own face falls, even if he’d made the call ready for a negative answer. At the very least he’d get to speak with a friend, and one he constantly missed, all of them always pulled to completely opposite ends of the universe.

“Oh, Shiro!” He perks up at Allura’s outburst, checking that Keith kept on sleeping out the corner of his eye. “Kosmo’s race, I know of it.”

“You -- you  _ do _ ?” Shiro leans forward, hands resting flat on the desk’s translucent surface. She nods, but holds up a finger while she does something outside of the screen. He thinks she might be typing.

“Okay, there.” Her smile when she looks back at Shiro is encouraging, and he finds himself mimicking her. “I really can’t believe this didn’t come up earlier, to be honest. But like you said, we were otherwise busy.” 

“So, I sent a message to Coran, because he knows his way better than me through the virtual library from old Altea, and he’s actually working on putting the lost tomes into physical copies once again. Oh, Shiro, you simply must come to New Altea soon, it’s grown so much since you last visited. But I digress, sorry.” Shiro waves her concern away. That they can know anything at all is amazing, the least he can do is listen to her be excited about her planet.

“Kosmo, I know his race. Or rather, I know of it. They’re Yadnae, which translates roughly into skitters, but that’s going through Wruwrian that were the ones that named the race, Altean, and now English. So don’t quote me on that.” Allura continues. Shiro listens enraptured to every word leaving her lips. She taps a finger to her chin before adding. “I only know the tales they told me as a child, though. Apparently to bond with one was a great honor, but they were thought to be missing. Lost to the Galran bloodshed, I would imagine. Coran will have more information for you soon. Is everything alright with Kosmo?”

“He’s lost.” Shiro answered automatically, still thinking about the fact that there was a name for what Kosmo was, that he was the apparent sole survivor of his race. He almost misses the small ‘oh’ Allura let out. “It’s okay, we’ll find him. I will. I must, for Keith.”

“Shiro, I’m sorry. But, Kosmo’s a smart wolf, probably smarter that we know, if what I remember from tales is true. I’m sure he’s fine. I hope Keith is, though.” Allura’s concern melts Shiro’s heart, and he finds himself pushing his hand to the screen, palm flat against it. She does the same, and he pretends he can feel her healing touch. “Coran will send you the information, but- you should probably talk to Pidge. I can feel Kosmo’s energy when he teleports, so I’m sure she can work some of her technology for you.”

“Allura, you’re a genius.” Shiro wanted to facepalm right then and there --  _ of course, Pidge _ ! If he had to be completely honest though, his brain hadn’t even considered the wolf’s  _ energy _ at all. But if someone could feel it, that was Allura. And if someone could replicate that, it was Katie.

“I hardly am. Half the time I still can’t understand what Pidge does, but I’m sure she’ll manage something for you.”

“And you sell yourself short, Princess, as always.” Shiro returns truthfully. “I’ll wait for Coran’s message, then. Thank you ‘llura, for your time, and your help.”

“Oh, hush.” She chides, but it lacks strength, and the video call doesn’t hide the faint blush on her cheeks. “Tell Keith I miss him, and that if I have to issue an order for him to call me, I will. And take care, Shiro.”

“I will. And we’ll visit soon.” With that promise they part for the night.

A  _ Yadnae _ . Shiro repeats Kosmo’s race as he slips back to bed, prosthetic circling Keith's waist, and curls behind him.

-

"Wait, let me see if I get this straight… you want me to track your vanishing dog?" Pidge’s voice trickles down from Keith’s PADD to where Shiro’s working on his own, nestled between his husband’s legs.

The Atlas is heading to a new solar system, and even when they’ve managed to equip the ship with teluduv technology without needing Allura, it’s precisely because they’re not with her, that they can only do so many jumps, or so far away. So it was a moment like this, while they waited for the next one, that they could be found with some free time on their hands. 

The crew was in different states of resting, training, and doing minor tasks to keep Atlas in perfect shape for their next first approach with a possible member of the Federation, and Shiro and Keith had taken to their quaint living quarters. Moving from the island counter, to the bed, to the couch; cuddling, sprawling, sitting, and repeating all over again as they worked on different things.

Shiro is currently brushing up his Altean. After his conversation with Allura the previous night, he found himself missing it, and decided he could very well read some in between revising documents. Keith, on the other hand, took Allura’s advice to boot and was talking to Pidge to find a way to track Kosmo down.

“Yes, my vanishing dog,” Keith’s answer has Shiro smiling to himself, knowing perfectly well by now how his husband’s lips are hitching to the right, and he’s rolling his eyes at Pidge. It’s not ideal, the tension Keith still carries can be so easily felt in his stiff posture behind him, but Shiro will take anything that puts a smile on Keith, no matter how small or brief. “Can you do it Pidge?”

“Can I- pfff- honestly you guys sometimes…” There’s a minute tightening of Keith’s legs around Shiro’s shoulders, as he shifts a little upwards on the couch. “ _ Of course _ I can track him. Heck, I can track you two if I want you, do you know how much easier it is to track a teleporting wolf?”

“A Yadnae,” Keith tells her, his free hand finding Shiro’s hair, and running fingers through it. Keith’s been very happy with the minuscule speck of information Shiro found on Kosmo- not even caring about all the objections that it was actually Allura the one that did it- and he’d spent all day so far giving Shiro little extra tokens of affection. He imagines it might help Keith as well, and won’t ever complain about it.

“A  _ what _ now?” The usual furious typing that accompanies any conversation with Pidge halts for about a full second.

“Kosmo, his race is Yadnae, Allura told us.” Keith’s nails scratch Shiro’s scalp, so he ignores his PADD and Altean learning for a moment in favor of relaxing into the touch. If Shiro could purr, he’d be doing it now.

“Yes, okay.” Shiro can imagine with his eyes closed Pidge’s fixing of her glasses and dismissive wave of a hand. “So, I guess you know how your Yadnae travels, right? We talked about it with Hunk when-”

“Yes, yes, with the fold on the universe or something.” Keith interrupts, and Shiro takes a hand to rub at his husband’s ankle. It won’t do if both him and Pidge grow anxious of the other.

“A wormhole, Keith, but yes, he actually does fold the universe on itself to make a smaller jump. Much like the teluduv technology does. I’m surprised you remember this much. Anyway… the trail Kosmo leaves, you might notice things get displaced when he jumps. A gust of air, if you will.”

“Things fall around him, yes.” Shiro thinks he might be falling asleep, because Keith’s voice sounds a little blurry, and so PADD forgotten on the coffee table now, he gets up to prepare a couple of drinks for them.

“I would think now more than before, since he’s grown.” Pidge’s voice follows softer to where Shiro is. “That’s a consequence of the folding of the universe’s cloth. Think of it like a little quake, or like moving a piece of furniture with stuff inside. That leaves a small crease on the cloth, of course, alongside the wolf’s particular quintessence signature. So that’s what we can follow, the creases.”

Shiro watches Keith grow pensieve for a moment, a finger tapping the side of the PADD. “So, does the Atlas leave creases behind too?”

“It’s different, because of the teluduv, but sort of, I-  _ look _ , I don’t think you want to have a class on advanced physics right now. I can already tell you’re thinking too hard. What is it that you need Keith, a device to see where the creases are?” Keith nods just as Shiro takes a seat back next to him, handing over a steaming mug of cocoa. “I can make one, just, later. I’ve had five too many cups of coffee, and I think I might need to sleep it off now.”

“Of course, yes.” Keith shakes his head, smiling to the padd screen. “Thank you, Pidge. Let me know when you’re back in the world of living.”

“Roger that, captain. Tell Shiro my mom says hi, and-  _ what do you want Matt?! _ ” Shiro chuckles softly at the all too familiar sound of sibling bickering on the other side of the call. Keith seems amused at what he gets to see, and Shiro can only imagine. Matt had always had the quality of getting on people’s nerves, all the more Katie’s. “ _ Yeah, whatever, moron _ … anyway, bye Keith.”

“Bye Pidge.” Keith’s eyes stay on the screen for a couple of seconds after the call ended, and Shiro uses the moment to watch him. Notice the faintest sign of relief easing the tension on his shoulders, and between his brows, for the first time in weeks. And then he turns, and the purple is set on Shiro, wide, hopeful. “We can find him.”

Shiro instantly knows what he has to do then.

-

"Shiro, this is not-" Keith hurries to catch up with him, sidestepping a group of petty officers carrying containers with the last samples that were taken from the moon they are currently orbiting.

"Keith, it's okay, it's been decided and authorized already." He reassures for the tenth time that morning cycle. Shiro turns to smile at his husband, but ends up finding himself face to face with IT engineer Luulp, and has to take a three-sixty spin to spot Keith almost sulking against the wall to the bridge.

"Luulp," Shiro greets with a nod. "Can I help you?"

The alien- a species Shiro can only describe as a tall Bii-Boh-Bi, but with an actual neck separating head from torso, and four to six extra fingers in their hands, depending on gender- returns the nod, and all but shoves a device to Shiro's hands.

"Oh," Shiro flips it over to inspect it. It's a small rectangle with a screen that could easily pass up as a modern version of a human mobile. He figures it’s a conscious decision to make it so. "Is this the tracker?"

"Yes, sir," Luulp takes a moment to answer. Their universal translator is not yet done working through the Vunphin language, and sometimes words will still get lost in a conversation. "We did it just as Paladin Holt said, sir. She said- um," the engineer glances nervously between Shiro and Keith, and Shiro decides he can spare him the suffering of whatever colorful comment Pidge added.

"Don't you worry, I'm positive we can make it work. Has it been tested?" The alien nods eagerly, wriggling his many fingers together in an anxious gesture. Shiro searches through his memory for a reminder of the species body language, before clasping a hand to Luulp's shoulder, and giving an encouraging squeeze. "Thank you, Luulp, we'll be in touch should something happen."

The alien stutters some parting words Shiro can't make into anything too coherent, but he smiles regardless, and continues his walk to the bridge. Keith's at his heel in a second.

"Shiro, I can go alone." He tries, but the words slowly fade as Shiro turns to him with the most unfazed look he can manage without coffee. He arrived late at the cafeteria, distracted by the man in front of him, and his personal stash is already packed up in the craft they’ll take in a moment. 

Still, Keith sets his jaw, chin up defiantly. Shiro raises an eyebrow at the stubbornness he so much loves of his husband. They break their stare-down upon entering Atlas bridge, to greet the crew already there.

"Shiro," Keith's at his side as soon as Shiro presses his hand to the scanner of his control panel. "I don't want to-"

"You don't want to disrupt my job, yes, you've said as much already." His answer is perhaps harsher than he meant, and so Shiro turns to face Keith, keeping him in place by the shoulders, and coaxing his eyes to stay on his. "Keith, I'm not going to stay behind. Atlas will be fine without me for a couple of days, everything is arranged. If you take off alone, then I'm following in a second ship, and that will be wasting resources, don't you think?"

Keith's chest rises and falls visibly, a sign Shiro's come to identify as him swallowing words down, so taking a step closer, he whispers just for the two of them. "I love you, and I love Kosmo, so please let me do this for you." Again Keith keeps quiet, but nods, and this time Shiro can see a faint blush travelling up his husband's neck. Good.

"Okay then," Shiro turned to his crew, ignoring their 'we weren't prying' faces, because he knows they mean no harm. "Admiral's log, stardate 1678.1. As we orbit planet Euter, at the edge of Galaxy ZL-12, at solar hour,” he checks the nearest screen to confirm, “zero nine hundred, I, Admiral Takashi Shirogane, give command of the IGF-Atlas to Captain Samuel Holt. All authority over crew and decision-making should something occur, is now his, until my return."

"Captain Holt, the bridge is yours." Sam gives Shiro a shy smile, yet a firm handshake. "Take care of her, Sam."

-

“Pidge’s sass was really something else when she designed this,” Keith walks up to Shiro in the cockpit, tossing the tracker for him to catch. 

“Oy,” When Shiro lets go of the controls to do so, Keith slips between his arms, and onto his lap, to steal the piloting from him. There’s nothing Shiro actually minds about this, so he just shifts a little to make the position more comfortable and examine the little device. “Oh, I see.” He chuckles.

So he’d been right to say the thing was similar to a mobile phone. Shiro confirms it now that the screen is on with a star chart of their nearest celestial bodies shining back up at him. In the middle of it, there’s a small black and red ship, and when Shiro zooms in, he can see a tiny exasperated Pidge on top of it, pointing in the direction they have to go. 

Shiro would trust Pidge with his life, that much was true, and he trusts the device to work flawlessly, but he can also always count on her sliding some of her sass into things. This one makes him smile, and then chuckle out loud. Soon Keith’s joining with his own, tentative laugh, and soon enough they are snickering, Shiro’s arms wrapping around Keith’s.middle to press his husband closer, and hide his face against his back.

It’s amazing what a little cartoon and some space in front of them can do to their mood. Shiro has a good feeling about this trip already.

-

Keith comanderees the controls for a good amount of hours, leaving Shiro to organize the living quarters of what will be their home for the immediate future. He hums as he puts everything that was hastily packed for this in their proper place.

He does inventory of the food in the small galley kitchen. It’s well equipped, and he recons they’ll have a good amount of days before they have to stop and replenish. For a moment, he considers putting some coffee to make before deciding it’s probably best to save it for breakfasts only. At least until they decide on a course plan.

The bedroom is not nearly as big as the one in the Atlas, hardly much more than the bed, a small table with a chair on a corner, and enough room between those things to get to the built in wardrobe, and the bathroom door. It’s honestly perfect for the two of them.

Shiro does a final round through their little hangar where a hover bike is stashed, before stealing a pillow from the bed on his way back to the cockpit.

“Everything alright here, captain?” He presses a kiss to the crown of Keith’s head. 

“Perfect.” His husband answers with a sided smile just for Shiro’s sake. He fixes the pillow against one of the copilot's armrests, and flops against it sideways, legs tossed over the other one, staring at Keith.

“This thing is something else, Shiro,” Keith makes a gesture, chin tipping towards Pidge’s device propped against the control panel. It’s said with the tone Shiro knows to be filled with gratitude, and he can only imagine Keith’s already been thinking on how to repay Katie’s hard, and counter clock work.

“Good?” He contributes, just to get Keith to keep on talking. His husband looks better by the second they spend out, the tension his shoulders carried for weeks now is slowly easing away, and there’s nothing Shiro wants more in the vast universe, than Keith’s wellbeing.

And Shiro, he’ll be content with getting to see Keith’s stunning profile cut against the stars shining on the other side of the ship's wide bay windows, and count himself the luckiest man alive.

“Yeah,” Aside from a good sparring session, this is where Keith’s himself the most, out in space. It’s easy to see in the subtle but happy curve of his lips, and the loosening frown between his brows. “You probably couldn’t tell, but we went by several of Kosmo’s creases. I can feel them so clearly now that I know what to look for.

“There’s another two near us, but according to this, we need to pick the one before last. That’s the newest one, and that’s where we’ll jump.” Shiro makes an approving sound, shifting a little into the pillow at his back. Keith’s eyes dart towards him, and then roll at his choice of position, moving back to the controls.

“You know what this ship’s lacking?” He finds himself asking after a long moment of comfortable silence. “A radio.”

“A radio as in… to listen to music?” Keith asks, voice colored in confusion.

“Exactly. After all, what’s a road trip without some music?” Shiro’s answer is only partially a tease. He kicks a leg out, but misses Keith’s seat for an inch or two, so he shifts lower on his seat to try again. “Without us battling over what to listen.”

“I don’t think you mean to say that with so much longing, Shirogane. Your music taste is horrid.” Keith’s tone is light, and full of empty threats, just the way Shiro likes it. His next kick hits right under Keith’s elbow, and he earns a swat on the ankle before he can move the leg away. “Besides, driver gets to choose -- those are the rules.”

“Sure, sure,” Shiro nods, toes tapping rhythmically against the side of the pilot’s chair. “But it’s about to be my turn to  _ drive _ . That is, unless you want me to make dinner?”

“Oh, stars no.” He could pretend to be offended at it, but even when he’s long moved from burning a boiled egg, Shiro can’t deny Keith’s cooking is actually good, compared to the merely acceptable of his. “Anything okay with you?” Keith asks while standing, and doing some back stretching. Shiro nods, too busy watching the dip of his back. Keith shakes his head. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Shiro tosses his legs off the armchair, and stands as well, a grin splitting his face. “Maybe I will. But later, when you’re showering.” A hand finds Keith’s wrist, and he pulls them together.

“You know, I really shouldn’t have allowed you to take off that Admiral jacket. You’re much more well behaved with it.” Keith’s hands are trapped against Shiro’s chest, fingers toying with the regular shirt he’s wearing now.

“Oh, baby, but you know I’m not.” Shiro breathes against Keith’s neck, before nipping his way up to his jaw.

“You’re a menace.” He was sure there was a slap coming, but instead, Keith hides against Shiro’s shoulder, face flushed and his reprimanding a mumble. “Focus, Shirogane. Drive, while I go make something to feed you.”

-

It’s two day cycles later when they find themselves touching ground at the first place where Kosmo’s signature takes them. L-809 is a dark red planet, roughly the size of Earth, but with a completely tropical climate, where humidity slowly but steadily managed to push its inhabitants to live in an orbiting ring around it. They’d joined the Federation soon after the end of the war, and even when they didn’t have much contact with them, Shiro and Keith were given a place to dock, not questions asked, as soon as they said their names.

Usually, neither Shiro, nor Keith, would like to get that kind of preferential treatment, usually wishing to lay low and unrecognized, but this was an exception. They had to find Kosmo, so they gladly accepted the help, and the suits offered to aid their descent to the planet to check for the wolf’s vanishing signature. And after they’re back with no good news, they even accept to spend the night at the ring.

“The food here’s not bad, actually.” Shiro comments after a bite of some sort of stew the waiter out in front of him. He looks across the table at Keith’s weird pasta-like dish, and the way his husband is only pushing it around the plate. The worry is back on his face. Shiro leaves the plate ignored, in favor of reaching across the table for Keith’s hands. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Keith answers, and the attempt at a smile tightens Shiro’s chest even more than the plain sadness on his face. “I’m alright. I will be.”

“Can I do something?” Keith shakes his head at Shiro’s question.

“I know I shouldn’t have expected he’d be here. Looking at the tracker, there’s so many hopping signatures, it was dumb to think he’d be in the first place we’d find.” Shiro gives his hands a little squeeze. It had been a high hope, but he couldn’t say he hadn’t been equally as excited. “Next planet, maybe?”

“It could be, yes.” And hesitating for a moment about his next movement, being out in the open in an alien compound, Shiro leans closer to brush a kiss on Keith’s knuckles.

-

The next couple of days find Shiro and Keith hopping to various creases, and doing little searches in both barren and inhabited planets, as well as an actual comet, and an abandoned ship that reminds Shiro of a sunken ship.

There’s still no sight of Kosmo, and Keith’s mood wavers so fast between hope, worry, and sorrow, Shiro’s not sure how to help anymore.

When they are flying, it’s easier. Out in the vastness of space, and behind the ship’s controls, Keith’s mind seems more at ease, so Shiro relinquishes more and more of his own piloting time, in favor of leaving him. Whatever helps keep Keith’s fears subdued enough that anxiety doesn’t keep him up during the night cycle.

It’s right as they are going to bed on day seven of their trip, and after Shiro’s had a video call with Sam to let him know he’d be in charge of the Atlas for another human week, that they get a message from Allura, and it’s good news.

-

“Shiro, come on!” Keith’s hand tugs at him with the same energy a child has at a fair, eager to see and do everything. And it’s probably exactly that, if the glow on his eyes is anything to go on.

After their call with Allura the previous night, where they got some extra information that made Kosmo’s vanishing signatures make sense in a pattern, and not random universe creases scattered around, Keith finally managed to get a proper night of sleep. And with him, Shiro did too.

Today, they’ve stopped on a trading moon to restock their ship’s supplies, and possibly closer to Kosmo than they’ve been in a month. And Shiro can swear Keith’s vibrating with anticipation once again.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” He shakes his head, and nods to the vendor of the stand he was examining before letting himself get dragged along the street by his over-energized husband. “Won’t you let me buy you something nice?” Shiro wraps his arms around Keith’s waist when they hit a mass of aliens they can’t pass through. He nuzzles at the faint smell of shampoo on Keith’s hair.

“Shiro,” Keith squirms in the embrace. He can’t see it, but Shiro’s sure there’s a pink blush on Keith’s cheeks. “We have to get stuff.  _ Important stuff. _ ” He adds just as Shiro was opening his mouth to answer.

Whatever the yellow alien in front of them is doing, they won’t be able to go through just now, so Shiro turns Keith to face him, thumbs tilting his head up from under his chin. Shiro knows Keith’s knows what the argument will be, about how Keith is important, the most important thing in the universe. And he also knows what Keith’s answer will be, with his eyes darting around before he can collect himself and poke a finger to Shiro’s chest, to argue back that no, Shiro is.

So they both avoid that conversation, and instead, Shiro makes a small request. “I know you want to leave this place right now, I do too, but- We have to wait until Pidge compiles what Allura sent her, and we can update the route to take next. So how about we just walk around here a little, you let me find a cool alien knife I can gift you- another alien knife- we eat, you relax a bit. How does that sound?”

“Okay.” It’s but a faint answer, pushed out from a small pout that Shiro hurries to kiss away, before Keith has the time to put much thought into it.

“It’s okay, I understand. Really, I do.” Shiro assures him once again, arms tightening around Keith’s waist. His husband doesn’t seem convinced, so he tries again. “If you’d rather we be at the ship, Keith, we can. We’ll go right now, and wait there for Pidge’s update, you just have to say th-”

“No, you’re right. We’ll know when she answers anyways.” Keith smiles, a bit wobbly still, but then he leans up to return Shiro’s kiss and by the time he pulls away, his expression is steadier. “Okay, Shirogane, let’s go find those knives.”

“ _ Those _ , are we getting more than one?” Shiro laughs as he gets tugged along once again, but this time they’re getting further into the press of aliens filling the market.

-

In the end, they go back to the ship with five different knives to add to Keith’s ever growing collection. One of them, Shiro’s sure Keith already has, because he’s been steadily getting sharp objects as birthday presents for years now, ever since Lance started it as a joke, and Keith liked it so much he hugged a very confused blue paladin.

They banter about the possible duplicate all the way back, laughing, joking. Shiro threatening to gift Keith’s knives to charity, and Keith threatening to get rid of his favorite coffee in retaliation. It’s nice, warm and easy like a summer afternoon, and something they hadn’t had in some time, what between their jobs, and Kosmo’s disappearances. 

By the time they’ve taken off once again, Keith’s gone over Pidge’s updates, and entered the new coordinates in the ship’s computer, for the autopilot to carry them smoothly as they sleep. Shiro’s heating up some food they piled up from different stands while out there, and because they’re feeling relaxed, they eat it on the bed, with the glass opaqueness turned down, and the stars right there for them to admire.

After dinner is over, Keith’s gotten the dishes back into the galley kitchen, and Shiro’s checked everything’s alright with the ship, they fall together back on the bed. There’s hope in Keith’s kisses, gratefulness in the way his hands map out Shiro’s body, and a primal need to express it all before sleep captures them, and the next day comes.

-

The planet has no name. Not that they know of, at least.

It’s massive next to it’s three moons, with a heavy mist that parts smoothly to make room to a vividly turquoise sky, as the ship makes its descent. The foliage looks thick, not too green, but with a reddish undertone to it, and once they touch ground, they find themselves walking right next to a sparkling river, that every so often sinks itself in the ground, only to resurface further along. There’s an eerie quality to the planet that leaves Shiro and Keith silent as they walk. It’s as if they’ve somehow stepped into an old, abandoned library, and they’re breaking decades of silence, and peace.

They’re not sure where they’re going, but the strongest signal in the tracker has led them here, and once down, they can’t deny they feel a presence surrounding them. It keeps Shiro on high alert, eyes scanning every inch of this forest they’ve found themselves in, and he can tell Keith’s spine is tense, fingers ready to grab at the blade strapped to his back.

Eventually, after an hour or so maybe, they find a clearing up ahead, but right as they are about to finally step out of the shadows, a blue flash of light surrounds them, and the next thing there’s no ground under their feet. It’s the blink of an eye, as it usually is with one of Kosmo’s vanishings. Except this one’s somehow wider, brighter, and leaves them all the more disoriented.

There’s a sharp breath intake next to him, and Keith’s name is out of Shiro’s lips before he can even regain his sight. He reaches out, desperate until his hands find Keith, and pulls their bodies together. It’s only then, with Keith safe in his arms, that Shiro allows himself to look around, and see what made Keith gasp.

They are everywhere. Big, small, smaller. Some are more blue than others, and some are so dark they’re almost purple. Their eyes are all big and attentive, and Shiro can swear there's years upon years of intelligence in them. They’re all Kosmo- all Yadnae- and all of them are staring straight at them.

“Keith?” He’s not even sure what to ask, but his husband’s name has always been the first thing on his lips whenever they find themselves in yet another mess.

“I know,” Keith answers, and he sounds just as dazed as Shiro. He looks as if he’s going to add something, when there’s a new burst of light in front of them, and then a familiar ball of fur and slobbery tongue is greeting them. “Kosmo!” There’s a tremor to Keith’s voice, which Shiro knows to be weeks over weeks of uncertainty and anguish over his lost friend.

Shiro watches Keith hug the wolf as if there’s no tomorrow, and can tell the exact moment he starts crying onto the blue fur because of the shake of his shoulders. He gets a couple of nose boops, and wolf kisses too, but mostly he just leaves the two of them to each other. It looks as if Kosmo has missed Keith, too.

There’s a silent moment after the two of them calm down, with Kosmo pressing his head against Keith’s ribs while getting some nice ear scritches while Shiro turns to look at the rest of the Yadnae. None of them are moving, although they seem to be less alert than before. The fact that one of them knows Shiro and Keith must’ve put them into the “no threat” list, and for that he’s grateful. He’s not sure he has it in him to fight a pack of teleporting wolves today. Or any day in the foreseeable future.

“Shiro,” Keith breathes out, eyes wide open with a mixture of shock and awe. “Shiro, he’s talking to me. I can- come, come touch him.”

He kneels back next to his husband, watching his face for a trace of a joke, but there’s nothing there, and so he places his flesh hand on the wolf’s head. And he almost jumps back up from the shock of it. Because as his fingers thread into the thick hair, Shiro can hear- no, he can  _ feel _ \- the animal talking to them.

It’s a weird sensation, almost as if those were his own thoughts, but there’s a distinctive voice almost; a timbre to it, that he can place with Kosmo at any given moment. They’re not exactly words, but sensations, images almost, flashing into his mind, and then out of it. And it’s unbelievable, how no matter the times Shiro’s crossed the universe, the things he’s seen, the life he’s lived, and lost, and lived again, there’s always something new to discover.

There’s an apology first, repeated once and over again, accompanied by Kosmo’s nose nudging against Keith’s chest, as if he knew exactly the pain he caused disappearing like that. And soon there’s other images. Of them on a mission around a year ago, of Kosmo finding his pack by happenstance, and being welcomed back again to it. Then something older, from when Keith found him on the whale, and how Kosmo had just got separated from his mom because he was being rowdy with some of his siblings.

Keith’s openly sobbing then, and Shiro can’t help but to shed a couple of tears as well, because what were the odds of them finding each other so perfectly, all those years back?

And then there’s newer images of the very planet they’re on. Of Kosmo learning about his pack, learning to speak, finding a mate. Keith pulls away to catch the wolf’s eyes, but keeps his hands on both sides of his face. Shiro can’t hear it, but he’s sure Keith’s asking about it more. Still, he watches, and waits, because Keith knew all along, didn’t he? That the wolf would one day tell him all Keith needed to know.

A couple of Yadnae walk up to them then. One is slender, roughly the size of Kosmo, and by the nip it gives on his ear, Shiro can only assume she’s the mate. The other one is bigger, with whitening fur splotches that make it look older, and walks up straight to Shiro, so he pries his hand away from Kosmo and offers it to the new wolf instead.

The information is a lot to process at once, hitting Shiro’s mind with a strength he already knows, too many memories being poured into his brain for him to catalog and interpret. There’s a whole story being told, and even when the wolf’s eyes are unwavering on Shiro’s, he knows there’s no rush to unravel it all.

Still, there’s some easy to spot highlights in it, and he can fill in the gaps with what Allura already told them. The Yadnae being a race that lived in cooperation with others all across the universe, due to their teleporting abilities, communication skills, and the collective knowledge they’d acquired throughout centuries. Them being chased to near extinction by Zarkon’s thirst for their quintessence, and managing to escape to this planet outside of the Galra reach.

Shiro manages to grasp an idea of how Kosmo got to Keith, while on a trip with his family, and how he’d not been able to learn all of his communication skills by them, so he hadn’t been able to tell them where or why he was going. He was shown another viewpoint of Kosmo showing up as well. The joy of him finding his family, and their own happiness of a lost son returning home.

“Shiro!” Keith stands just as he’s about to call for his name as well, and they both wait for the other to speak first, but Shiro has the feeling that they’re both going to say the same words.

-

Shiro’s life is made of many, varied, little things that make for a wonderful whole. A brave, loyal, and beautiful husband. A renovated shack they fixed together. A group of friends they can call a family. A massive teleporting space wolf and his mate that shed fur all over their furniture and take regular trips to their home planet to be with their pack. A life travelling across the universe with the man he loves.

And a sticky note on the fridge that reads:  _ Kosmo is only allowed to teleport away when it's on purpose! _

**Author's Note:**

> Comments feed me, long, short, keyboard smashes, emojis, your choice!
> 
> Come chat with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/ragdollrory).


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